


bad girl, good girl / irrelevant dichotomy

by isolationist



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/F, Overstimulation, Rule 63, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isolationist/pseuds/isolationist
Summary: when niou came by yagyuu’s classroom during the morning break under the pretence of asking to copy her english homework, yagyuu had lowered her voice to whisper a suggestion and a promise both that had niou's eyes glittering above a foxy smile.tennis no oujosama au.
Relationships: Niou Masaharu/Yagyuu Hiroshi
Kudos: 8





	bad girl, good girl / irrelevant dichotomy

The door to the stall has barely been shut or the lock turned until the click is heard before Niou’s hands land certain and familiar on Yagyuu’s waist and their lips meet. During the process of getting closer to one of the walls one hand comes to palm at Yagyuu’s chest between kisses and Yagyuu has to turn her face to keep her voice down when Niou squeezes, biting her lip. 

It works for a second at most until Niou descends once more, tugging at it with kisses that are more like bites, teeth a little sharp as she chases Yagyuu’s mouth and swallowing down whatever sounds they make until their tongues shift only slackly. Their breaths mingle for a moment, before Niou pulls back, getting out of her face. One of Yagyuu’s hands grasp at Niou’s hip.

“You can’t keep biting your lip like that,” Niou says, a teasing note to her voice as a smirk curls her lips.

“Please, do not bother with tired lines, Niou-san,” Yagyuu cuts in, before she can say another word. She’s a little surprised by how steady her voice sounds, how in control she still seems. Unless, someone knew what to look for. For all she can see through Niou, it’s the same way the other way around. Niou snorts, most _unladylike_ , and buries her face in Yagyuu’s neck for a moment. No teeth, no tongue; no, not even lips trailing kisses. 

Then she slouches further, dragging a nose so cold Yagyuu can feel it through her shirt down until she’s resting her face against the swell of Yagyuu’s breasts. It has to be uncomfortable to the point of hurting her neck, but it’s not something to ever have stopped her before. Yagyuu isn’t going to stop her now either, even if she would prefer it if Niou kept on with what they were here for. 

It seems almost as though Niou can read her mind.

She skirts her fingers up Yagyuu’s thigh. The touch is light but her hand pushes the fabric of the skirt up until it’s bunching around Yagyuu’s hips. Her pale skin in stark contrast against the black tights. Fingers resting so close to Yagyuu’s heat it wouldn’t take much for her to touch. Niou raises her head, stands back a little straighter.

“Hey, Yagyuu, you have to stop it with the tights,” she tuts as she slides her hand further up, over Yagyuu’s pubic mound. Up over the lowest part of her stomach until she finds the waistband of said article of clothing. “Make it a little easier on me.”

Her fingertips dance across the bare skin above it, in a fast, unpredictable rhythm. It almost tickles, in a way that has Yagyuu scrunch her nose. It also has the effect of making her skin feel all that more sensitive, the drag of Niou’s touch heightened, the drag of the heavy fabric shifting almost enough to make her shudder. It’s too early for that, Yagyuu thinks.

“I fear I’d get cold in that case,” Yagyuu says. She is very different from Niou in that respect, who seems entirely unbothered by the cold even in the middle of winter and whose socks never reach higher than just above her knees. Though on occasion, no matter the season, Niou will keep her tracksuit bottoms on underneath her skirt when they head home after practice; when she doesn’t bother showering, saying she’ll just have to shower again later with a knowing look. Those days Niou is all too content to spread out and sprawl in her seat on the subway, not having to worry about perverts getting an opportunity to get a look. Not that she ever bothers sitting too properly, but she tends to skirt on the line of respectable at the least.

“You wouldn’t, could just wear thigh highs, them really high ones,” Niou says, her other hand coming to rest on Yagyuu’s thigh. She pokes her finger into the slight give of flesh, easing up on the pressure as she draws an invisible line where the socks would encircle Yaguu’s legs. Her finger comes to a rest on the inside of Yagyuu’s thigh, sensitive to touch even when clothed.

Their eyes meet. Niou seems almost pleased.

"Right about here," Niou continues, "would look really nice, _puri_."

"I'd have to wear garters," Yagyuu replies, tart. It is left unsaid that she'd never, but she can tell Niou likes the idea. That she might adopt it herself, likely not for actually attending school in but for their out of school activities.

"That'd be hot. Or just the ones with slightly too tight elastic at the top, they'd dig in nicely here," she says, gripping at Yagyuu's thigh more firmly, and Niou isn't being mean about it — Yagyuu having just that little bit more softness to her body than Niou herself does. It isn’t all that noticeable unless you were to see them side by side, except perhaps from their bust measurements, but where Yagyuu has gentle curves and soft edges, perfect posture always and keeping her back straight as a ruler… Niou does not. 

Niou is long and lean lines hidden beneath a slouch most likely born from hitting a growth spurt early, hunching over to hide height before her classmates caught up and then never fixing it. She has never confirmed Yagyuu's suspicion, but Yagyuu recognises it from some other girls she went to elementary school with that were a little ahead of the curve. 

She’s a bit on the thin side when you see her without a shirt, doesn’t always entirely fill out the cups of her bra, but Niou has great legs and she knows it.

Sometimes Yagyuu catches herself looking. Admiring. Thinking to herself that it's a shame that Rikkai's uniforms don't lend themselves to being as easily tugged up to make the hemlines higher and skirts appear shorter, just a few more tantalising centimetres of skin begging to be bared and enjoyed. The thing is that Niou would opt to do it too, she knows. 

"Niou-san," Yagyuu says, softly, airily. She shouldn't have to say anything more.

At last, after a couple of light scratches of nails against bare skin, Niou slips her fingers under the waistband of Yagyuu's tights. She runs them down over the fabric of underwear first, testing if Yagyuu is wet enough with arousal to have leaked through the fabric yet. Yagyuu doesn't think she is, not quite, but a shiver travels down her spine when Niou makes sure to press between the lips of her cunt on the way up, dragging the touch insistently over her clit. Yagyuu shudders, one of her hands flying up to grip the one of Niou's arms still grabbing at her thigh.

“Or get a pair of crotchless ones. Tights, I mean.” Niou leers. “Wear nothing beneath ‘em.”

"Niou-san!" Yagyuu scolds, the breathless note to the honorific all but imperceptible, as though Niou had meant a word she said. Or perhaps Niou had, she was just not serious about Yagyuu actually wearing that outside a private space. Semi-public, perhaps, but the idea of being that bare outside isn't particularly enticing. Yagyuu hates how amused she is at the prospect though, knowing Niou's propensity for saying things just for a reaction or because she thinks it's funny to misdirect attention. Niou makes sure to rub a slow circle over her clit, fingers restricted where they rest between Yagyuu's body and the tights getting stretched outwards and thin around the outline of her hand. Another shudder travels through Yagyuu at the touch. 

Distantly, Yagyuu thinks that maybe she would be wet enough for it to be properly felt through her underwear now, when Niou instead opts to push her fingers under the edge of them. Fingertips brushing through curls of hair, gingerly, and sliding easily down over Yagyuu’s clit and down her slit. Finding her opening but not pushing inside yet, just stroking around it in faint touches. Yagyuu’s hips push forward of their own accord and she doesn’t even care to stop them. She slaps a hand over her mouth instead. Being quiet when she touches herself in bed doesn’t take nearly as much effort, and shame rushes through her at just how easy she must appear. Hips canted forward, legs spreading slightly. 

Please, she doesn’t say. Doesn’t beg. She moves her hips a little when Niou’s hand stills, chasing after whatever stimulation she can get. Then Niou pushes in. One finger at first, slow and careful until the second knuckle and she drags it out even slower with a slight curl. The motion repeats, almost ticklish, but on the next push in it’s joined by a second finger and— oh. Yagyuu’s mouth falls open, blessedly quiet. Her hand slips down too, moving it to Niou’s shoulder

She looks at Niou, her glasses askew where they’ve slipped down her nose and she wishes to right them but there’s no point in doing that now. She wishes to be kissed even more. 

Her still open mouth is an invitation and Niou isn't hard to persuade when offered something she wants too. Yagyuu curls her tongue around Niou's, sucking it into her mouth, and lets herself get lost in the touches. One of her hands cups Niou's breasts but through the layers of fabric there isn't much she can do, pinching in search for a nipple that has Niou curse under her breath.

"You're such a tease, _Yagyuu_ ," Niou murmurs, drawing her name out, before her lips and teeth find Yagyuu's earlobe.

Yagyuu doesn’t say anything, knows Niou would like nothing more than to provoke her into replying something trite. Niou’s movements still for a moment, like she’s waiting for an answer. Then, she twists her fingers just _so_ , it leaves Yagyuu to throw her head back. Merely saying it feels good doesn’t do it justice but Yagyuu feels words leave her mind when Niou does it again, and again, and then she curls them harshly. The heel of Niou's hand rests perfectly over Yagyuu's clit in this position and she can grind herself onto it, the steady pressure and cupping of her vulva another form of pleasure than the touch inside of her. Niou's fingers are long and thin. Clever and talented, whether it be with magic tricks, a sleight of hand, or something much cruder. Something exactly like what she does with them now, massaging soft walls.

"I do apologise," Yagyuu says eventually, Niou's fingers slowly pumping in and out of her shallowly. “I suppose it must have been getting the better of me, knowing that, _ah_ , I would be able to get you alone today.”

She doesn’t say she has been thinking about it since yesterday, when her eyes had found the constellation of moles on Niou’s lower back, just above her underwear as they got dressed after practice. Niou chuckles, amused and in agreement. They don't always acknowledge this, how much it's a turn on for them both that Yagyuu is all too willing, inviting, to spread her legs in a school bathroom. Not even during after school hours, though it is in one of the more deserted wings of the school. Something about contradictions, or corruption, Yagyuu muses — and then Niou curls her fingers just so, rubbing at the textured spot of skin on the inside of Yagyuu's cunt that sends jolts of pleasure straight to her clit.

Yagyuu's teeth find her bottom lip, digging down until it borders on painful. It is all she can do to not moan out loud. Even if they're in a less used part of the building, on a less populated floor, it would be no good to attract attention or get caught. Yagyuu isn't sure what she'd if that actually ever happened. There is no plausible excuse or explanation for having a friend's hand down her panties and said friend's fingers up her cunt. She pants when Niou eases up, a tease herself in every sense of the word when she puts her mind to it.

With arousal, Niou's heavily lidded eyes always fall just a smidgen lower. Her lashes are so long and curled that Yagyuu finds herself a little jealous at it, because she knows that Niou doesn't bother with eyelash curlers unless she's going heavy on the mascara much unlike Yagyuu.

"Good thing we don't have tennis practice today," Niou says. It is almost conversational, like they're heading home from school early or like Yagyuu is off for cram school. Not like Niou is scissoring two fingers inside of Yagyuu.

Yagyuu's breath catches, small sounds escaping once more when Niou plays with that spot inside of her that makes her knees shake unsteadily.

"E-everyday is tennis practice if you— if you're Yukimura-san," Yagyuu replies. She wishes her voice wasn't so unsteady, that it didn't sound like she was almost moaning someone else’s name. That hadn't been her intention. She expects Niou to comment on it, but all she gets in return is Niou angling her hand just a tad differently, applying more pressure to Yagyuu's clit and grinding the meat of her palm against it. 

It's almost too much. It is amazing. Yagyuu's thighs twitch. Her head hits the bathroom wall with a low thunk and it hurts, but not enough to distract from what she's feeling. Her voice goes high pitched, in that annoying and embarrassing way she hates, so uncontrolled, so unfair. She can't do anything to stop it, the heat between her legs coiling tighter, and tighter still. She's getting so close and she can feel how slick she is, wetness smearing on the lips of her cunt and the top of one thigh when Niou's fingers slip out.

She whines at the loss but Niou moves her wet fingers up against her clit, giving it a couple of playful circles before making the movements small and tight, fast and light in a way that has Yagyuu bucking her hips, chasing after that touch. Her underwear stretches so much she would worry about them getting worn out and ruined had she any mind to do such a thing. One of her hands catches Niou’s wrist, delighting her with the fluttering pulse she can feel beneath it.

There is no reason, no point in saying that she's close. Yagyuu opens her eyes, meets Niou's hot gaze on her. Her eyes are intent but a little glazed over, clearly not unaffected even if not quite to the degree Yagyuu is.

" _Fuck_ ," Yagyuu breathes out, a small huff of laughter that gets cut off when Niou pushes fingers into her again, still just the two but more than enough. Yagyuu clenches down on them, desperate for more, almost, but she finds she never likes it as much in practice as the idea of it.

"Fuck," Niou echoes, lower, even quieter, biting down on her own lip. 

She doesn’t have to be polite, not now, could demand it or even just stay quiet and Niou would still give her what she needs to push her over the edge, but she still murmurs a simple, “Please.” 

The satisfaction she feels from how Niou has to take a deep breath in turn makes her own pleasure crest higher. It won’t take much now, Yagyuu knows, and then the feeling grows so strong it’s everything, coursing through her body until the only thing that exists is the heat between her legs. Her eyes squeeze shut and a mewling little whimper escapes her lips among the pants. 

Her thighs clench together, spasming, locking Niou’s hand in place — as though the vice-like grip she had on Niou’s wrist wasn’t enough, allowing her to grind down a while longer in slow rolls of her hip. Niou curls her fingers a little, playing with the inside of Yagyuu’s cunt lazily. 

Yagyuu knows that if she lets her keep that up, it won’t be too difficult for her to come again. 

The cold tip of Niou’s nose has warmed some but it’s still a shock when Niou nuzzles Yagyuu’s neck, breath hot and wet against skin already damp with sweat that runs down the back of Yagyuu’s neck, down her spine, her hair hot and sticky where it’s plastered against skin. The tiny movement of the fingers inside her sends her head spinning a little, her breath coming faster. Niou scrapes her teeth against skin but not quite biting down, just teasing.

Niou likes leaving bites. She likes biting, _period_ , including being on the receiving end. She is all too happy to let Yagyuu mark her in turn. She’s sharp teeth and she’s clever, has learnt the way Yagyuu clenches down on her fingers when she nibbles at certain parts of Yagyuu’s body. Yagyuu has to hiss reprimands sometimes, telling her to not leave anything anywhere visible, and that’s somewhat of a problem when you’re in a sports club and have to be in a state of total undress with quite a few other girls in the showers after. 

Yagyuu loosens her grip on Niou's wrist, fingers only gently holding it. An unwillingness to let go of the skin contact, perhaps. She takes a deep breath. Ignores the pleasure still strumming through her veins even when Niou continues to play lightly with her. Yagyuu clenches and relaxes around her fingers a few times, thrills at the pleasure that mounts slowly; slowly, until it is all of a sudden far too fast, Niou’s fingers shifting angle just slightly until all Yagyuu can do is squeeze Niou’s wrist and have already weak breaths feel like they’re punched out of her.

And too slow to let Niou know to let her go, to ease up, Niou instead pushes in harder and heat coils again inside of Yagyuu, small sparks of electricity tickling across her skin in a sudden rush to her sex; the onset is so sudden she doesn't have time to really warn Niou before she's coming a second time.

"Niou-san," Yagyuu says, a lot less calm, alarmed almost, and the whimpers that follow are the same. Yagyuu bites down on Niou's shoulder, _hard_ , not caring if it leaves a mark or not even if the chance is low with both a blazer and a shirt in the way, to muffle the sound that escapes her. Her legs feel wobbly, overexerted. It wasn't supposed to go this far and she can feel how wet she is, knows how soaked Niou's hand must be. Her head spins as she tries to catch her breath.

It went a little further than she had intended. Somehow, Yagyuu is convinced, Niou knows it too. She can't recall if she's done anything to deserve it, nothing out of the ordinary in how she has treated the other girl over the last few days. 

Niou is struggling to catch her breath too, chest heaving shallowly. Maybe it hadn't been planned payback. Maybe they had just gotten too caught up, both of them. Isn’t Yagyuu supposed to be the responsible one anyway? Something like that, she thinks, seems to be right. Maybe. Yagyuu isn’t sure she will be able to stand on her own with how heavily she’s come to support herself leaning back and she can’t stop clenching on Niou’s fingers.

The stimulation feels like too much now, small jolts of something that can’t be cleanly determined as pain or pleasure. She's so sensitive when Niou slides the fingers out of her that even that touch is too much.

" _Ah_ ," Yagyuu breathes out, weakly, almost pained. Her clit throbs still and Yagyuu is grateful when Niou avoids touching it further.

Niou doesn't apologise, not that she really needs to, but it wouldn't be out of place. It isn't like Yagyuu expects or even needs it, just because things escalated at her discretion. However, she does bow her head so that her long fringe falls down to cover her face as she turns to unlock the door of the stall. A click, and then she’s out.

The water turns on as Yagyuu tries to regain her wits, still leaning heavily on the wall. It is the only sound in the bathroom. With her thumb and forefinger, she pushes her glasses up her nose at last, straightening them out. Hands shaking faintly when she tugs her underwear and tights in place before tugging down her skirt to sit properly once more, hands steadying as she brushes out any wrinkles from her top and buttoning up her blazer to hide that which she can't remove.

She waits a few moments longer before she tries to walk, hating the slight tremble when she tries anyway. She has dealt with exertion much worse, has run far too many laps or met opponents on the court with stamina that puts her to shame. It matters not that she tells herself this. Her heart races in her chest still. She waits for it to calm,

Seeing herself in the mirror her appearance is close to as tidy as it had been this morning when she left her home for school, the only true giveaways how flushed her cheeks are or the redness of her lips. From what little she can see Niou's lips are a match in darkness, in glossiness from spit rather than make-up products.

Yagyuu straightens her tie as she watches her reflection. Once, twice. Just to make sure. Niou is still not looking at her.

"It's not often you surprise me," Yagyuu says, plainly. Her voice is calm, unaffected, as normal. Niou snorts and the line of her shoulders drops just a touch, turns a touch laxer, she realises.

"Didn't think I still could," Niou replies, carelessly casual. Getting caught unaware was a feeling Yagyuu didn't particularly enjoy, and though Niou's surprises mostly fell into the category of being harmless she still prided herself in being able to circumvent them simply due to how well she knew her partner. She shifts where she stands, trying to ignore the way her cunt throbs still with the constant touch of underwear and tights pressing against her.

Yagyuu exhales a single, long breath.

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” Yagyuu asks as Niou continues washing her hands. The soap suds are small, fast to wash away, but Niou is giving it a fair try. It isn’t easy to pretend that she doesn’t still feel the effects of her orgasm, limbs a little loose. 

Niou meets her eyes through the mirror. “On this short notice?”

“My parents have asked when they’ll see Masaki-chan again,” Yagyuu lies effortlessly and thoroughly convincingly if anyone else were to overhear. Niou snorts though.

“You know my parents are the same, always wondering if I’m not bringing Hiromi-chan around soon,” Niou lies in return. Niou’s parents don't ask. Yagyuu’s parents on the other hand simply don’t care for Niou. Would much rather her bring around just about anyone else on the tennis team, except for perhaps Kirihara.

“Want me to throw on a wig and pretend I’m a nice girl like you, _Yagyuu_?” Niou asks. She dries off her hands sloppily. She grabs the end of her rattail, eyes finding Yagyuu’s through the mirror once more.

Yagyuu smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> so i [saw](https://twitter.com/mi_nntk/status/1253693009004081153?s=20) [some](https://twitter.com/nu__o1/status/1108707011804303361?s=20) [r63](https://twitter.com/nu__o1/status/1214544932142059521?s=20) [fanart](https://twitter.com/okikukaku/status/1251894015315697665?s=20) on twitter which caused the scenario "girl yagyuu getting fingerbanged in the school bathroom by girl niou" to come to mind, and that is exactly what this fic is.


End file.
